The Night the “Ghost of America Past” Visited the Progressive Liberals

An American Carol

By Paul Skousen

Tuesday night, the Ghost of America Past came to pay a visit on the progressive liberals in America.

His stealthy arrival wasn’t a complete surprise nor his appearance without warning because there was a familiar messenger who preceded his coming.

It was none other than the apparition of Ted Kennedy dragging his chains of socialism across the border into Massachusetts.

Two million voters were out that night wondering in awe at Theodore’s approach. They heard the hauntings, the clanging and rattle. What could this odd disturbance be on such a night as this? Was it a bit of rotten TART funds? Perhaps an undigested piece of bailout money?

Finding their way to the voting booths, they drew back the curtained enclosure, and suddenly there he was! The face of the Ted, grinning back at them, a claim to his Senate seat firmly lashed about his back, and wheezing from his memory a labored foretelling of more to come clinging to the chains of his decades in office.

“Voters of Massachusetts, these are the chains I forged by my works of tyranny and oppression,” he groaned, “to wrest from you your powers of choice, to oppress with shackles and squander your wealth. These are the chains I have wrapped you with, crushing your labors, your incentives, your very human nature and rights. Yes, these are the chains with which I will bind you more tightly this night. You see them not, but they are ponderous still, and will hold you fast.”

And when a million voters asked in unison, “What of us? We who work all hours to care for ourselves and help our brothers and sisters in harm’s way, not because of your government schemes, but because of the goodness and determination in our own hearts?”

“Are there no government housing projects?” replied he. “Is there not welfare? Have you no national health care to provide for them?”

“Some would rather pay their own way,” the voters replied, “or have none at all.”

“Then let them have none and decrease the surplus population,” he roared, shaking his chains all the more.

Then continuing, “This night you will be visited … Three brothers who teach, the first of America Past. Come the next hour, of America Present. Then beware, for that last who is America Future, he is the most tenuous of all, for he has power to terrify or to liberate. Then take heed, Massachusetts voters, for there comes this final chance to mend your ways lest you become as I, bound down with my wicked intents.”

As the apparition dissolved, those who voted for freedom with their ballots and retired for the night were indeed visited by the Ghost of America Past. And his pleasantness gave them the sweetest dreams, the most pleasant congeniality towards their fellow men, a bright hope that their vote to regain the brilliant wisdoms of the Founders could still secure to them their unalienable rights to self sufficiency, to freedom, to property rights, to free association, to equality under the law, to defense, to caring and compassion, and most important, to the freedom to fail and try again. In short, the hope for happiness opened before them. In their hearts came this plea, “God Bless us, every one.”

However, for the million who voted against these things, there stepped into their path, rising up from the wings of history the Ghost of America Future. He bore in his right hand a copy of the Constitution, and in his left a burning torch.

Then came this warning echoed from the failed dreams and failed governments of eons past, “I stand before you a shrouded and mysterious future, blocking your way forward to present you a choice—will you call to me to lift the torch in my one hand to light the path and light your way, and lift this law in the other to guide you back to freedom and prosperity? Or do you spit on me and dare me to ignite these together and burn all hope and prosperity to ashes in one blazing moment of lies and false hopes? You decide citizens of Massachusetts and you decide voters of America. You decide for my torch burns hot, and I wait for no one.”

It was a restless night for the progressive liberals in America on Tuesday late. They tossed and turned all the time through, torn by their weak application of the freedom to choose. When they awoke Wednesday morning, they wondered—had it all been a bad nightmare?

As they rose to consider their new day, there loomed out of view another waiting surprise—they didn’t see it, indeed they couldn’t see it, but the Ghost of America Present stood patiently waiting with but one chore to tend: he re-set his watch—it had been running a little fast.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 20th, 2010 at 9:11 pm and is filed under Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.